The Olympian Project
by Pastry Queen
Summary: The Flock wasn't the first to escape from the School.
1. Chapter 1

Now, I've been in quite a few chases. There's the 'Holy-crap-Erasers!' chase, the 'gotta-get-that-last-chocolate-chip-cookie' chase, and the 'Dammit-the-girls-are-trying-to-cut-my-hair-again' chase (the most dangerous of all).

In all of these chases, I knew that I would get out alive because I always had the flock at my back. But I've been going solo for a while, and I've had to depend on my own strength when attacked (which happened a lot less than I would think). Since the attackers were usually just full-humans looking for a fight, I always came out relatively unharmed.

This time, I'm not so sure. I've been backed into a corner with only a pipe to protect me, Erasers on all sides. Since the bastards had broken one of my wings, an up-and-away is out of the question.

A long, low whistle echoes through the alley. The Erasers back off, melting into shadows, save for a silver haired one. Their leader.

He grins lecherously. Though I'm panting from near exhaustion, his breathing is slow and even. His grin widens as he closes in on me.

I ready myself for the fight, praying to whoever or whatever is up there that I make it out alive. _I'm sorry, Max_, I think as I grip the pipe tighter. _I'm so sorry._

_Six hours earlier_

Once you've been in one tiny town, you've been in them all. Ethel is no exception. The town is secluded and surrounded by forests and has a population smaller than the head count at a high school football game. It seems to be solely filled with middle-aged couples, yet has a large and pretty nice high school along with a baseball/soccer/sports field. Go figure.

Thankfully, the high school has a library (the town's only library) and is open even during the summer. And more thankfully, in the library is a wall of computers. Score!

I slink along a row of bookshelves to a computer near the fire exit. Just as I touch the back of the chair, a voice call out from behind me. Thanks to years of training, I don't jump and yelp and make a fool of myself.

I turn and see a pretty, Asian girl at the previously empty librarian's desk. She motions to me once she sees that she has gotten my attention. "Yes, I'm talking to you, scruffy guy! Come over here real quick."

Once I get to the desk, the girl looks over me critically. I give her a look, as if to say, _Yes, I know I look like a bum. Do you have a problem with that?_

The girl slides a notebook and a pen over to me. "You have to write your name here," she says, tapping the paper with a ratty nail. "You're new here." The sentence is a statement, not a question.

"Yeah," I mumble, scrawling _Simon Lewis_ onto the paper in my barely legible handwriting.

"Are you Lewis's grandson? He mentioned that his ne'er-do-well son's boy was coming to learn how to be a man this summer."

"Nope," I say, groaning internally. Small talk. I hate small talk. I hate being rude more than small talk, though, so I attempt to keep up my side of the conversation. "How'd you know that I'm not from these parts."

"Well. . . " She looks down at the paper. "Simon, there are three major clues. One!" A finger flies up in front of the girl's face. "You don't have an southern accent. Not a trace. Definitely not from here. Two! You're not chewing gum. Everyone around here chews gum. Even the pastor, though he takes it out when he preaches. Three!" A third finger joins the other two, and I try not to lean back from her enthusiasm. "This town has a population of five hundred and twenty seven. I know all five hundred and twenty six of those other people. You are definitely not one of them."

"Um . . . " See, this is why I hate small talk. I never have any idea what to say. I decide to make a strategic retreat. "Well, it was nice meeting you . . ."

"Michiko," she says, holding out a hand for me to shake. I take it, giving two firm pumps. "Nice to meet you too, Simon."

With a little difficulty, I tug my hand from Michiko's and quickly walk back to the computer, trying not to make it look like I'm running away. Because men do not run away, no matter how strange the look in a female's eyes. I repress a shudder.

I log onto the Internet and immediately log onto my old blog, checking to see if any of the flock members had posted anything new. As always, bold, red letters appear on the homepage. Scrolling down, I scan the paragraph to see if anything has changed. The message is still the same: _To all: Fang has left the flock, and we desperately want him back. If you see him, please pass on this message. Fang, if you're reading this we all miss you, especially Max - Nudge._

My eyes had stung when I read had read this message for the first time. Now all it does is make me sigh.

I would love to go back to the Flock, I really would, but the war the School is still going on to this day. Max needs to focus on her world saving trip, and my presence only distracts her. She can't afford to have her attention divided.

That's what I told myself all those years ago, anyway.

Lately, though, School activities have really decreased. Erasers no longer chase me, nor do any of the other experiments that the School threw at me. In fact, I haven't been bothered for at least a year. Right now, I could return to Max and the Flock.

But the relative calm and peace that I've been experiencing feels false somehow, like something even worse is going to happen. Bigger than Itex, than Dr. Hans, bigger than anything the Flock has battled through before. Like the last year has been the eye of the storm and what's coming will totally devastate the world.

I know, this would be an excellent time to flock (haha) to her side and pledge an undying oath to protect her with all the strength in my body. But I wanted to be able to help her without distracting her. I wanted to be able to help take down the minor bad guys (maybe with a team of my own) while Max challenged the Bosses.

But I hadn't found anything in those three years since I left the Flock. Nothing. No evil masterminds with plots to take over the world. No mad scientists churning out experiment after experiment. Not even any allies. It seems that the Flock and I were the only free experiments left.

It makes me wonder what had happened to those we had released all those years winged girl had been so sure when she left, confident in her own ability to protect herself and the others, even though she herself was so weak. She reminded me a lot of Max. If they were smart, they would've left the country. Put as much space between them and their captors. I hope that they're alive, wherever they are.

I put aside my thoughts and checked up on the other's individual blogs. Nudge's long, rambly posts never fail to make me smile, nor do the recounts of Gazzy's and Iggy's adventures, or Angel's new obsession (something called _Cardcaptor Sakura_), or Total's 'poetry' for Akila. Max's, though . . . They do make me smile, but in a different way. Sadder. She almost never updates, and when she does, the posts are short and to the point.

Sighing, I click out of the windows and push myself back from the computer. I think I'll find myself a nice dumpster in the town over, and then a tree to sleep in.

"Hey! Hey, Simon! Simon Lewis!"

A hand grabs my arm at the elbow, and I look back in surprise. It's the girl, Michiko.

"Rude," she huffs. "I called your name, like, seven times."

"Sorry. My head is sort of in the clouds," I say in an apologetic tone, eyeing the hand on my arm. So much for personal space.

A shoulder lifts and drops. "S'okay. Hey, I'm meeting a few friends for lunch at a pizzeria out of town. Wanna come?" Michiko gives me a hopeful smile.

Fresh food. Now that's a nice thought. "I'd like to, but I'm totally broke. Sorry."

She gives me a wicked grin. "That's okay. My friend is treating, so you don't have to worry. As long as you don't leave her with a huge tab, it'll be fine."

I can't help but give her a suspicious look. A pretty girl just up and offering me food? With no expense? Things like this always come to bite me. I mean, look at Anne. "I don't know . . . This seems a little too good to be true."

"Oh, come _on_! Haven't you ever heard of Southern Hospitality," she exclaims. "It's what we're known for! Besides our inordinate amount of churches and fried food."

I think it over. Hell, why not. I'm sure that I could take her and anything she could throw at me if things came to that. "Okay," I say.

She begins tugging me down the steps to the parking lot, where she leads me to a brown pick-up truck. "Besides, you seem really interesting. I'd really like to get to know you."

That last sentence gives me a chill down my back, but not from the flirty implication. It's from the intent look in her brown eyes, like she couldn't wait to crack me open and see how I work.

Kind of like a look from a white coat.

oOoOoOo

_I'm sure you've noticed, but this chapter is a lot different from the first one of _Fang's Journey _(this story's previous title). When I say I'm revamping, I mean I'm _revamping_. A lot of things are different. For one, a plot emerges! And there's character development! Le gasp!_

_Something Off-Topic About the Author: I completely abhor the words 'y'all' and 'a'int'. I can't stand them! It's kind of funny, because I've lived in the South for, I don't know, twelve years? And I still refuse to say them! I don't have a Southern accent, either! It's funny because one time a dude in my French class told me that he liked my accent. I was like, "_I _have an accent? It's all of _you _that have accents."_


	2. Chapter 2

_Warning: Violence ensues_

oOoOoOo

_"Besides, you seem really interesting. I'd really like to get to know you."_

_That last sentence gives me a chill down my back, but not from the flirty implication. It's from the intent look in her brown eyes, like she couldn't wait to crack me open and see how I work._

_Kind of like a look from a white coat._

oOoOoOo

The uneasy feeling I had gotten from Michiko hadn't faded, even hours after I parted ways with her and her friends. She was nice enough, though. Always ready with a witty joke or pun, and she didn't object if I asked if anyone minded if I had a whole pizza. She had even paid for it herself! The thing is, she's too nice, too friendly. Call me paranoid, but strangers that acted like that to me always ended up as the bad guys (excluding Dr. Martinez and Ella, since they are Max's family and such). I mean, look at Jeb and Anne! Even Iggy's biological parents acted like scum!

Just wait. This whole thing would come back and bite me in the rear. I bet it wouldn't just bite, though, it would take a huge freaking chunk of flesh with it.

The lunch had been pretty fun, though. Except for Michiko and her weird blond friend. He had kept looking at me as if he could tell I wasn't fully human. Either that or they _really _don't get strangers in these parts, ever.

I snicker a bit at that and wriggle against the tree trunk. I plan on leaving at dawn, so I had better get my sleep.

_Snap!_

The sound of a breaking twig echoes through the silent forest like a gunshot.

I stiffen immediately. Only moments ago, nocturnal creatures had chattered so loudly that it gave me a headache. Now, even the crickets are silent.

Leaning forward on the branch, I crouch and slowly open my wings. Hopefully, luck will be on my side and my camouflage will let me make a quick escape.

Then again, luck has never really favoured me.

A sharp pain appears in my right wing seconds after a gunshot is heard. I barely have time to swear before the ground is approaching me at an alarmingly quick pace. The good part: my fall was slowed, so I don't crash to the ground too hard. The bad part: my fall was slowed by the pine tree's branches.

I land on the ground with a thud and oh god that fucking HURT! Something crunches and snaps, and I black out for a few seconds.

When I open my eyes, a boot nudges my cheek. "Don't you know? It's _dangerous _to sleep in trees. Why, you could fall out and hurt yourself!" The male voice is filled with false concern. "Look at me!" The boot rolls me over, and I give a hoarse yelp.

The bastards! They- they broke my wing! I can feel the bones poking into my side, and it's all I can do not to black out again. Instead, I open my eyes and stare defiantly up at the figure above me, who leans down until I can see his face well.

White teeth gleam in a red mouth. Silver fur retracts into smooth skin, except for a short layer over the scalp. Oh goody, it's my old foes.

"Oh, come on! Erasers?" I try to smirk through my pain. "You guys are so outdated. I was hoping that my captors would be something a little more . . . I don't know, flashy? Or maybe 'superior' is the word I'm looking for. I don't know, you guys just lack the- the _pizzazz_!"

The Eraser simply smiles and presses his boot down on my chest. Fuck, that hurts! Looks like I've got some broken ribs, too.

"You've got spunk," he says approvingly. "That's good. It's no fun if you just roll over and let yourself die. Isn't that right boys?" His question is met with howls from the shadows.

He stands abruptly, pulling me up with up into a standing position. I start to sway weakly, but plant my feet firmly in the dirt. "Now, we are going to play a game- "

"Is it Scrabble? Because I'm warning you, I can't spell worth crap."

"You think you're cute and oh-so-witty, don't you?" His smirk morphs into a sneer. "Push me, and I won't think twice about breaking that other wing of yours."

I mime locking my mouth and throwing away the key.

The Eraser's face twitches, but he let's that slide. "We are going to play a little game I like to call 'Sheep and Wolves'. Now, you" -he points to me- "are the sheep, and we" -his arm sweeps around in a wide circle- "are the Wolves. The objective: stay alive until dawn. There are four simple rules for you to follow. One: stay within the town borders and the surrounding forest; do _not _try to lose us in a city because we will hunt you down and kill you. Two: don't go to the humans for help, or they'll be killed. Three: if you do happen to make it alive to dawn, which I highly doubt, we'll let you live. Barely. And four: try not to scream to loudly when we do kill you. Starts all kinds of nasty rumors when people hear." A low chuckle.

He releases me and steps back. I watch in silent fascination as bones pop and creak, fur sprouts, and limbs stretch beyond human proportions. The others stay in the shadows, but I can still hear their transformation.

The Eraser bares his teeth in a parody of a smile. "Five minutes head start, little sheep. Better start running," he growls, his wolf mouth distorting the words.

I take off, running past him. Crap, crap, _crap_! Can't fly, my wing is broken. Blending into the foliage won't help me any; they'd hear my ragged panting from a mile away. My only option left is running, but the broken rib is making that pretty hard. But where to? I'm at more of a disadvantage in the woods. As I break out of the folliage, I spot it. The school!

Those building are meant to be safe if someone snaps and brings a gun to school. If I can keep them out of there long enough, maybe I can make it to dawn.

I sprint up the steps. In the far distance, crashing and shrieks of laughter echo. Looks like my five minutes are up.

Stopping just as I reach a door, I curse. The place is locked up. Of _course_! I'm so _stupid_!

There, just ahead! A cluster of buildings separated from the main building. Maybe a forgetful janitor or something left a door open. It could be likely, since people around here hardly lock their doors, according to Michiko and Co.

I reach a door and jiggled the handle. Locked. I- I'm getting woozy from the blood loss. Grabbing a metal pipe leaning against the door, I stumble around one corner, then another. A wall of Erasers is waiting for me. They don't even look in the slightest bit tired. I utter a soft but emphatic curse.

A long, low whistle echoes through the alley. The Erasers back off, melting into shadows, save for a silver haired one. Their leader.

He grins lecherously. Though I'm panting from near exhaustion, his breathing is slow and even. His grin widens as he closes in on me.

I ready myself for the fight, praying to whoever or whatever is up there that I make it out alive. _I'm sorry, Max_, I think as I grip the pipe tighter. _I'm so sorry._

While the Eraser leisurely strolls to me, I let myself sway and appear as if a stray wind could knock me over. It isn't very hard. I maintain my tight hold on the pipe, though, and make my breathing even more ragged. The Eraser smirks. He thinks won.

He stops a mere three feet away from me. Too far away for him to hit me, but I could reach him with the pipe. "Argentum," he says abruptly.

I stare at him blankly.

He repeats the word and smirks. "I figure that you should at least know the name of the man that will kill you. But if you can't pronounce that, you can call me Silver."

Okay, that's it. Time to show how helpless and weak I'm _not_!

I swing the metal pipe with all my strength, but Silver blocks it with a forearm. He grabs the pipe and tugs, pulling me in his reach. I snap my leg out, connecting with his knee, and his grip loosens with a growl. I kick him again, wrench the pipe from his hand, and swing it down to connect with his skull. Skipping backwards, I watch Silver wearily and catch my breath.

He rises with a small grimace. "Runt, I am going to rip your feathers out _one _by _one _when I am through with you! I will enjoy watching you scream and beg for your life! I will crush you!"

I don't say anything, but leap forwards to deliver another blow while he goes on a typical bad guy monolog. It catches him on the shoulder, and he lets out a feral growl that sends chills down my spine. Silver's hand shoots out, too fast for me to dodge, and he grabs my metal weapon with his right hand. Delivering a strong left hook to my abdomen that leaves me gasping, he effectively makes me drop to my knees and drop my weapon. He stands there and sneers, which gives me the opportunity to drive my fist in his groin with all my might.

This time, I'm the one standing above the other, but I don't take the time to gloat. Instead, I grab his bristly fur and slam his head into the concrete, hoping to knock him out. No such luck. All it does is make him even angrier.

Jerking up to a half-crouch, his arm shoots out with incredible speed and slams me into a brick wall. Stars dance before my eyes, and I shake my head quickly to clear my vision. I am dizzy from blood loss and panting raggedly. Silver is not in much better shape than me, and he wipes away blood before it can drip into his eyes. Looks like I hit his head pretty hard; he's swaying.

I chuckle. "Fang."

His forehead creases in confusion.

"I figure that you should at least know the name of the man who will defeat you."

Silver _roars_. Sprinting, he grabs my left arm, and swings me into a wall. He repeats this a few times, and on the fourth time, my shoulder dislocates. Finally, he releases me, and I slid to the ground, eyesight fuzzy. My breathing has become difficult, and I struggle to get up.

"Not so tough are you _now_, punk?" He throws his head back to the sky and roars.

The ADD part of my brain informs me that he's pretty loud for a guy that doesn't want citizens to hear my death screams. The in-pain part of my brain tells it to shut up.

Sneering, he leans down. "Don't worry. I'll make the pain go away. At least long enough for me to take you away and rip your wings off then throw you off of something high. I think I like the irony in that. Little birdy plummeting to his death. It's _funny_!"

He reaches for me. I close my eyes.

. . .

"What? No!"

I open my eyes to see Silver arguing with thin air.

"No, he's _my _prey. I won him fair and square! No! You can't _do _this, it's not _fair_!"

Another voice speaks from behind Silver, who whirls around. "Actually, we can and _will _do this. And you're right, it's not fair. But since when have _you _worried about what's fair?"

"You're such a hypocrite! Talking about fair, as if you have any right to use that word." This time it is a girl who taunts Silver.

"Shut up, brat! I'll rip your tongue out!" He storms off in the direction of the other voices.

I'm getting tired, so I decide to close my eyes and rest. Recover some of my strength. Noises that sound like a very heavy body hitting the pavement echo faintly.

Two fingers press against my neck and a hand feels my chest. "He's alive. Some broken ribs, I think. Maybe a skull fracture. His shoulder's definitely messed up. He'll pull through, though, unless there's internal bleeding. That's more problematic. I don't know about that wing, though . . . " It's the girl, I realize distantly.

"Hmm," the guy grunts. I am picked up. "Let's hurry to base. We'll have someone contact Michi while you and your sister take care of Simon here, or whatever the hell his name is. Don't let him die, or she'll be upset."

A feminine snort. "You have so much faith in my sister and me," she says sarcastically.

The guy laughs and says something, but I can't make it out. I'm just so tired. A nap sounds really good about now . . .

oOoOoOo

_I have never written a fight scene before. I hope it did action sequences worldwide justice!_

_I'm not sure how often I'll be able to upload this! The family has a limited data internet plan, and my mom uses that up with her Pinterest and Word with Friends and cute videos of pandas, etc. . . Plus, she's developed an issue with our local library manager, and if she doesn't get along with someone, by default, I don't, so, yeah . . . _

_Sorry to dump that all on you. I've been a bit frustrated lately. But the next chapter is almost finished, so I hope to have it up as soon as possible!_


	3. Chapter 3

_I'm just so tired. A nap sounds really good about now . . . _

oOoOoOo

I awake to the sound of hushed conversation. I groggily open my eyes and immediately scan my surroundings. A green tent with two bed rolls (one occupied by me), a green camping lantern, and a small pile of clothes at the foot of the other bedroll are the spaces only furnishings. On the far wall, three shadowy figures walk back and forth: one abnormally tall (not unlike myself), and two others at a more normal height. I think two are male, and one, the shortest, is female.

Blinking, I try to sit up, but a sudden, painful throbbing in all parts of my body quickly stops that. What the hell happened to me . . . ?

Oh, right. I got the crap beat out of me last night. Lovely.

I make a mental assessment. It doesn't hurt to breath as much, and my shoulder has been relocated (Is that the word people use when un-dislocating joints? Oh well, whatever, never mind). My face is all puffy from the beat down I got, and I'm bruised all over. My wing is definitely still broken, but someone with really good knowledge of avains has set the bones correctly, so it'll heal straight. It's nice that someone knows how to set my wing, but who the hell but the Flock (plus some vets and scientists) knows how to do that in the first place?!

Someone that is going to give me some answers, that's who.

Gritting my teeth, I slowly ease myself into a sitting position. I accidentally let out a gasp from the fucking huge ball of agony that is my body, and the whispers from outside stop.

A carrot-topped girl, probably around Gazzy's age, ducks into the tent and smiles at me. "He's up," she calls over her shoulder, then offers me her hand. "Need any help?"

I eye the proffered hand warily, shaking my head. I stand, manfully repressing any sounds of pain. The girl looks at me with concern and places her hand on my shoulder. Before I can push her limb out of my personal space, waves of relief radiate outwards from the point of contact.

"I can't actually heal like my sister," she says apologetically, "but I _can _help with pain relief. I'm sorry, but it's the best I can do right now."

"No, it's good. Great, actually," I say as she gently takes my arm and leads me out of the tent.

The other two figures from earlier have disappeared, and the carrot-topped girl doesn't give any explanations. We walk through what seems like a colony. Several tents identical to the one I had been in are cleverly disguised with bushes, and their occupants are nearly as invisible. I spot a little boy with a girl a few years older than him. Another, a brown haired guy around my age, makes his presence known by glaring at me as if I had kicked his puppy. Now, doesn't he look like a friendly guy?

Other than those three, the camp looks dead. Minus the wood life, the place is totally silent. Completely creepy.

"Hey, you're alive!" A tall, black guy bounces up to us, succeeding in giving me a heart attack. _Geez_, give a guy a little warning!

"You're not a really talkative guy, are you," he says, smiling as I clutch my chest. "That's okay, everyone always says I talk enough for an entire village. Anyway, I thought you were done in! I mean, you stopped _breathing _a couple of times! Good to see you upright!" I watch him in fascination. It's rare to meet someone who can talk as rapidly as Nudge without taking a breath.

"Shut up, Q-tip," the girl sighs. "You're making my ears bleed." She ignores the cries of, "You're so _mean_, Alice!" and grins at me. "Ignore him, and he'll go away. Hopefully."

With a small pout, Q-Tip bounces away, but not before saying, "Willow's in one of her moods, so I think I'll take a rain check on this meeting. See ya later, alligators!"

We slip into a tent large enough to house the entire Flock on the last syllable of Q-Tip's parting words. The first thing I notice is a pair of large, white wings, not unlike Iggy's. After a few moments, I realize that the wings are attached to someone, namely a tall, blonde, furious girl. She seems to be ranting to herself. Picking up the words, 'Silver', 'bastard', and 'entrails', I slowly begin to back away from the feathery bundle of anger.

"Um, Willow . . . " The girl (I think her name is Alice) shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

"What!" The winged girl whirls around, and irritated frown creasing her forehead. Her expression wrinkles even further at the sight of the me. "Ah, the invalid. Good, you're alive." She doesn't say it with relief or with any particular joy, more like, _You're a pain to take care of unconscious, make sure it doesn't happen again_. She turns to Alice, completely ignoring me. "Alice, can you bring me your sister. She's at the knee post." Knee post?

Alice leaves without a word, and all of Willow's attention is now on me. Her raptor gaze makes me kind of nervous.

"Take off your shirt," she instructs me, going to rummage in a red box underneath a cot.

"Um . . . excuse me?"

Willow gives me a look. "I know you understand English. Don't make me repeat myself."

I quickly remove my shirt. Thankfully, it's more like an upper body wrap than a shirt, so it's fairly easy to take off.

Moving quickly, Willow unscrews a label less bottle, pours some of the contents on a blue washcloth, and presses the wet cloth to my face. I wince at the sting of alcohol as Willow lightly runs her free hand over my injured wing.

"It's healing nicely," she murmurs, then looks up at me. "You know, you have really beautiful wings."

I look at her, trying to discern any possible hostility in the words. " . . . Thanks, you too. So, what is this, like the First Aid tent?"

Willow nods. "Yeah, you could call it that."

"So, why wasn't I kept in this First Aid tent instead of that tent farthest away from here?"

She presses the cloth harder, saying, "Don't ask unnecessary questions."

Before I can respond with a comment that would undoubtedly cause her to hurt me more, Alice appears along with a girl that looks nearly identical to her, except older and gloomier.

"Good," Willow says, abandoning me for the time being. Thank God. "Deidre, I need you to take care of the injuries on his face and the bruises on his arms."

The gloomy carrot-top steps forward and places her hands on my face. The feeling is completely different from what Alice did to me earlier. My skin feels like it's tightening, like when I get a bad sunburn, and it hurts. A _lot_. Thankfully, that only lasts a few seconds, and when she lifts her hands and begins to work on my arms, I can tell that all bruising and puffing is gone. That is really, incredibly _cool_! I tell Deidre so and am rewarded with a small smile.

As soon as Deidre finishes, Willow whisks me away with instructions to the two girls to return to their duties. As she leads me back the way Alice and I came, I glance up at the sky to determine the time. I guess it to be around five in the afternoon. Willow walks me past the tent I had previously occupied, and I feel a burning gaze in the back of my neck. It's the glaring guy from earlier.

"Who's that?" I gesture to Glaring Guy.

"You'll meet everyone later," Willow says briskly, grabbing the windbreakers Glaring Guy throws at her. She tells me to put it on as she tugs her own on. We're now fast approaching a small cul-de-sac.

"Who _are _we meeting?"

"Michiko. I know you met her yesterday, and that you have a less than stellar opinion of her." She stops and whirls around to face me. "I'll let you know right now, you had _better _not bad mouth her when you get to her. She is our protector. Without her, we would have all died. She is responsible for the camp. I'll _not _have you disrespecting her."

I don't flinch from her ferocity. "I won't," I say evenly, and that seems to calm her down.

"Good," she says, then leads me to a large, two story house on the very end of the cul de sac. Willow pushes me onto the first step of the porch, muttering something about jackass brothers and his perverted friends. She tells me to come back to the First Aid tent after my meeting. I step onto the green welcome mat, looking uneasily at the daisy yellow shutters and rust red door that set this house apart from all the others on the street. It all just seems a bit _too _innocent. Much like Michiko herself.

Pushing my unease to the back of my mind, I pressed the small doorbell that had a ladybug painted on it. Gah, Southern cuteness overload.

A tall, stocky woman opens the door, wiping her hands on a towel embroidered with kittens. Playing with _butterflies_. I barely repress a shudder.

The woman smiles widely at me, saying, "Oh, you must be one of Michiko's friends!" She didn't even seem put off by my disheveled appearance. She pulls me inside, smiling dreamily. "Michiko certainly has a lot of friends. She's so popular with her peers! So, how is Willow and Nick doing? They're so nice. Are they going out yet?"

"Um . . . "

"Mom! Please, enough with the questions." The indignant teenage voice comes from a bedroom door up a flight of stairs directly opposite the door.

"Oh, all right. Keep the door open," she instructs me as she retreats to a deeper part of the house. Who the hell leaves their teenage daughter alone with a teenage boy in said teenage daughter's room. I wonder if it's a Southern thing.

Ignoring the ADD part of my brain, I enter the bedroom I heard Michiko's voice from. She looks up at me from the floor amid a sea of books. "I'm reorganizing my bookshelves," she explains. "You can just sit on my bed. And how's your wing."

"Well, it's still broken," I say, navigating the crowded floor carefully. "And it still hurts like hell. How's your day been going?"

"Oh, it's been fantastic, thanks for asking," Michiko smiles, setting her books into tidy piles. Finally, she stands from the mess and joins me on her bed. "Aren't you going to ask me anything, Mister Simon Lewis? I know you're dying to."

I give her a look. "You probably know that I'm not Simon Lewis, do you?"

She smiles. "You've got that right, Fangalator!"

Looking down at my hands, I frown. "How- How did you get all of this? You know, the house, the family, the colony in the woods?" I think of the family portrait I glimpsed in the hallway. It had five people in it: Michiko, her mom, an older male, and two miniature versions of the male, one older and one younger. They all looked ridiculously happy in their matching gold and black outfits. Ridiculously happy and tacky.

Michiko is silent. Finally, she says, "Fang, I am an extremely lucky person. That is all I can say on the house and the family for now. I will talk about the colony, though."

I nod. "I'm okay with that."

Heaving a sigh, Michiko starts in a matter of fact tone. "About three years ago, you and your Flock broke a group of experiments, numbering about thirty, out of a laboratory. They wandered the country for a while, looking for others like them. Six months later, I found them on the edge of town, hunted by Erasers and half dead. There were only five left of the original group. I took them in, persuaded the Erasers to leave, and set up a sort of home for them in the forest. Our group became larger with time. Now there are sixteen of us."

Stunned, I sit there. Twenty-five or so experiments had died in a six month period. So many. "Willow's one of the original five, isn't she? I recognized her, but didn't say anything."

"Yeah." Michiko smiles. "You know, she really admires you. Among others. We all follow your blog, or at least when you used to update it."

I dwell on that for a bit before asking my next question. "Why the hell are there Erasers here? I thought they were extinct."

Michiko smirks. "Argentum and I came to an agreement. Besides, I pity him. It's never any fun when you are the last of your kind."

I consider telling her that the poor last-of-its-kind almost killed me out of spite, but I restrain myself. "So, you're an experiment as well. What did the School do to you?"

The smirk disappears. "That . . . is a story for another time. But I will tell you that I am similar to your Angel."

A bit like . . . Well, _crap_.

"Oh, don't worry! I haven't been digging in your brain. I have boundaries now. I only catch things that you project."

Before I can ask her what the hell 'I have boundaries _now' _and 'catch things that you project' means, Michiko's mom pokes her head into the room. "Dear, it's late. How about you walk your friend home? And on the way home, will you find your brothers, wherever they are? You always have a knack to finding them."

Oh, I bet you do, Michiko. I bet you do.

Michiko gives me a wide-eyed look when her mom leaves, saying, "Okay, that was totally a coincidence. Pretty cool how it worked out, though, huh?"

I just frown as I follow her out of the house. Yes, this is all a very big coincidence. I bet it was a total coincidence that you found me, too. I do my best to think the last two sentences at her.

Michiko beams at me. "Look, you learned to project! Good job!"

I think something rather unkind at her. I don't trust telepaths, ever. Even Angel. _Especially _Angel. Telepaths are just a world of trouble waiting to happen. Any bit of trust I had placed in Michiko is gone. I have a feeling she even knows about the Eraser beat down.

"Goodness, that was an abrupt turnabout in attitude! I'm okay with you not trusting me, though. I'd be okay if you hated me, too. Just don't hurt my charges out of any spite you might have, because I will disable you." The last four words are delivered with a cheerful, almost playful manner that makes me shudder. She reminded me of Angel so much right there, especially the moment when Angel told the Flock I was going to die first in that conversational tone.

"Are all telepaths a little off?" I can't help but ask it.

Michiko grins. "Of course! It helps us deal with the outside world better. Plus, personally, I like to mess with people."

I give her my patent Fang Glare of Doom, to which she snorts, "I've seen better frowns from Willow." I can't really argue with that.

"You know, _I _trust you!"

I give Michiko an askance look. She pouts.

"Even though you don't like me, as a gesture of goodwill, I'll tell you a secret." Stopping, she gestures for me to come closer. Rolling my eyes, I comply.

Her breath is warm against my ear, and I fight the urge to pull back. Or run to someplace far away from this schitzo.

"This isn't what I look like."

This time, I do pull back and stare at her wide-eyed as she begins to walk again. She can change her appearance like-

"No, not like Angel. And don't glare at _me_, _you're _the one projecting. I just . . . change your view of me."

"Will you tell me how?" At the sight of pursed lips, I quickly add, "As a gesture of goodwill?"

Michiko relents. "I can reprogram brains, like one could reprogram a computer, within a large radius to see me as you first did. Eventually, the brains will automatically perceive me as the image I keep feeding them."

"What happened to the boundaries?"

She keeps walking, ignoring me. She reminds me of a certain winged blonde (not Max).

We've arrived at the point that Willow and I exited the woods. Michiko waves me a cheery goodbye before going on her way, and I go mine. Within minutes of retracing my steps, I arrive at the colony and make a beeline for the First Aid tent. Willow is there waiting for me, cutting a roll of bandages into uneven rectangles. She looks up at me unenthusiastically and hands me a red thermos from beside her, instructing me to drink it.

I open the thermos and sniff the liquid. The contents are murky and it smells questionable. "What is this?"

"Don't worry, it's not poisonous. That is, if I measured the doses correctly. It'll help you sleep and heal." Gee, that's reassuring.

"Do you want me to go to the tent I slept in?" I have no intentions of drinking the maybe poisonous liquid and plan to pour it out in the bushes once out of her raptor vision.

Willow sighs, as if to say, _Quit being so difficult, you child_. "No, you're going to sleep in this tent."

"So, me, the injured person, is going to sleep in the First Aid tent only after said injured person suggested it." Yes, I'm being a smart aleck. I think I'm channeling my inner Percy Jackson.

Willow gives me a look. "I will be taking care of your unconscious body for the next several hours. I suggest you drink the tea and lie down." She points to a cot, a metal one like the kind you'd see in a hospital.

I drink the tea and lie down, very carefully on my side with the unbroken wing. It isn't long until I'm completely conked out.

oOoOoOo

_This chapter is so different from the original version! And it's much better, too. I like the Willow and Fang interaction. Willow's a fun person to write!_

_I figure that I should give you a mental picture of the camp. Okay, imagine a circle (not the real shape of the camp, but it'll do). At 6 o'clock is the garden. at 9 o'clock is the clotheslines, at 10 o'clock is the laundry tent, at 3 o'clock is the tents, at 12 o'clock is the first aid tent, and a little left of the center is the camp fire pit._

_Review please!_


	4. Chapter 4

_I drink the tea and lie down, very carefully on my side with the unbroken wing. It isn't long until I'm completely conked out._

oOoOoOo

"Everything's healing nicely," Willow says as she helps me put my upper body wrap thingy on. "By my guess, it'll take about, oh, a week for your wing to heal and one more day for your ribs. The torn muscles in your shoulder has repaired itself, but I don't suggest any heavy lifting any time soon."

She steps back, eyeing her handiwork. "Could be better," she declares, stepping forward to re-do it and giving me a smile. I return it uneasily.

When I awoke an hour ago, the grumpy, sharp-tongued girl had turned into- Well, she's still sharp-tongued, but definitely in a better mood. When I had opened my eyes, she had actually _smiled _at me. When she had checked me over, I had stayed quiet so that Dark Willow wouldn't return, but it looks like Light Willow here to stay. At least for now, anyway.

"How was your visit with Michiko?" Willow asked, tugging the cloth into place.

"Good," I say.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Raise your arms real quick. Okay, you can put them down."

What a scintillating conversation.

Willow looks up at me. "So, she didn't tell you anything interesting? Or show you, maybe?"

"Well, she did tell me she's a master of disguise. Literally."

"Hmm." This time, the noise is surprised.

"I'm assuming you know, too."

"Yeah." Willow backs away and sits on a tall, wooden stool. "You know, Michiko never lets newcomers know her secret right away. Heck, I didn't see her real face until after about three months of knowing her. She's _extremely _cautious. I think she's pretty clever for it. She offered us the same service when we gained her trust, but we declined."

"Well, Michiko told me that she trusts me _and _her secret right after I insulted her. I'm not sure what to think about tha-" I quickly stop at the sight of Willow's darkening face. Oh crap.

"You _insulted _Michiko?" The question is half anger and half disbelief. "And she _still _told you her secret?" She shakes her head. "Man, there has got to be something about you that I don't know."

"Maybe she was dazzled by my good looks," I quip, attempting to defuse the metaphorical dark cloud around Willow.

She merely gives me a look. "Don't be irritating just now that I've gotten to like you."

I give her a look in return. "How can you like me? We've barely had a real conversation, and I just told you that I insulted your idol."

Brushing off the idol comment, Willow responds with, "Well, you're quiet. I value that in a person. Right now, though, you're awful talk-y. Anyway, getting back to your idiotic 'dazzling good looks' comment. I don't think that would ever happen to Michiko. She is _way _too dedicated to keeping herself and her loved ones safe to let some good looking guy get into her head."

"Who's letting some good looking guy into her head? Is it _you_, Willow? Is Fang getting into your head?!"

Willow and I turn to see Q-Tip at the tent entrance. He makes a sad face. "Willow, I thought that I was the only guy for you! I know you are for me."

She sputters. "It- it's not me! It's Michiko!" At Q-Tip's raised eyebrows and grin, she adds, "And no one has gotten into her head. I was just clarifying something for Fang."

Q-Tip ignores all of this, just sighs melodramatically. "Fang, buddy! Hear how she says your name with tenderness?" (For the record, I heard no such thing) "I have to say though, if I have to lose my girl to someone, it should be someone that's at least like her. You know, with wings. I can see y'alls babies flying through the tree tops! Oh, you better name one after me! 'Uncle Q-Tip', can you imagine it?"

Before I can say anything to that weird speech (_Willow _and _me _have kids? Not likely!), Willow rushes up to him and smacks the still babbling teenager on the chest. "Shut _up_, Quentin! Geez, you're so _embarrassing_!" She's blushing heavily, and becomes darker when Q-Tip catches her hand and pulls her closer. "Get out!" Willow pushes him out of the tent. "And you! Wipe that smirk off your face!"

I jump. "Yes, ma'am!"

She grabs my arm and leads me outside, where I see what looks like the entire colony sitting in front of the camp fire pit. "Camp, this is Fang. Fang, this is Camp. I'll leave you all to introduce yourselves."

I give everyone a weak wave as Willow heads off in the direction of Ethel. Most likely to confer with Michiko about what a terrible person I am for insulting her (Michiko, not Willow).

No one makes a move for a few seconds.

Then, Q-Tip bounds from the back of the pack and slings an arm around my shoulders, careful not to touch my injured wing. "C'mon, guys! Is this all the enthusiasm you can muster?"

Silence.

Out of the blue, he announces, "Fang and Willow are in love. They're going to have babies!"

A tidal wave of voices hits me.

"Babies! Yay!"

"You are _such _a fucking liar, Quentin."

"What are you going to name them?"

"Omigosh, do you think one will be born with one black wing and one white?"

"It's sorta like an angel and a demon hooking up."

"Yeah, but who's the demon? Hottie McGoth there or Willow?"

"What the HELL!"

The roar dies down to a buzz as Glaring Guy rushes to the front. He's breathing heavily and red faced. My mind takes this time to realize he has wings as well. Gray ones.

My hands fly up (haha, fly up) in front of me in self defense. "Willow and I are _not _having babies." I repeat this louder so everyone can hear me. "We are _not _together. We don't plan on it either!"

Relative silence, except for a few titters ("Oo-er, denial! It's totally love."). Then Glaring Guy frowns and says, "So, you don't plan on it, huh? What, are you too _good _for Willow?"

Um, okay, Mr. Delusional? Try calming down. That's what I want to say, but before I can say something less likely to set him off, Grumpy Guy storms off. Well, at least he didn't try to swing any punches. It would've been bad to have to knock him out and embarrass him in front of his friends.

Q-Tip pulls me to the center of the group, where he flops down on the grass and gestures for me to follow suit. I comply. "Hey, man, ignore Nick. He's a total grump around this time of the month. But seriously, I have never seen him get so angry at a guy before! I think he's jealous! Anyway, Fang, this is one of my best buds and tent-slash-bunk mate, or whatever you wanna call it. His name's Luke."

He points to a honey blond guy, who smiles at me. He reminds me a lot of Dylan, except without the smug douche-baggy look on his face. And with less muscles. Luke extends a hand to me, which I take. He shakes it, flashing white teeth and saying, "Welcome to the family, man."

"Here's a little tidbit about him," Q-Tip says, leaning in as if telling an important secret. "He could break a rock with a rubber hammer. Ouch! Luke, man, that hurt! Anyway, here's his total opposite in freaking _everything_, Ben."

When I shake Ben's hand, I can't help but internally agree with Q-Tip. Ben _is _Luke's total opposite. Instead of being tall, tan, and golden, he's short, brown, and pale. I kind of wanted to ask them if they ever introduced themselves as brothers, just to see the looks on people's faces.

"Nice to meet you. And if you don't mind," he says apologetically, standing up, "I've got somewhere to be. Later." Ben weaves through the sitting people, going behind the first aid tent.

"Don't take it personally, man," Q-Tip says, clapping me on the shoulder. "He's not the biggest conversationalist, anyway. Probably because I always totally dominate the conversation, but whatever."

"Yeah, and _we_—" Luke stands up, bringing Q-Tip with him. "—have duties as well. Sorry, Fang, but Willow told all of us to get back to our jobs after introducing ourselves to you. And I don't know about you, but I don't want to cross her." He and Q-Tip wave as they walk away, and their spots are quickly taken by two girls.

"Idelle," one says, taking my (unoffered) hand in a firm grip. She grins, her white teeth bright against her dark skin. "This here is Zelene." She gestures to a Hispanic girl, who gives me her own sultry smile. If I remember correctly, this is the girl that referred to me as 'Hottie McGoth'. I can already tell that she is going to be trouble.

"And this here is , , , " Idelle drifts off, looking around her. After a few moments, she spots her target. "Deidre, turn around and get your red headed butt back here!"

It's the healing girl from yesterday. She waves but continues on her way. "He already met me yesterday," she calls over her shoulder.

"Rude," Zelene (what a weird name) huffs. "Don't be offended by her. She probably thinks that you're hot, which you are, and is too shy to come over here and look you in the eye.

"No way," a girl, Alice, exclaims. "She's totally sweet on Nick! But you didn't hear it from me, got it? Especially you, Mignon. You're such a blabbermouth."

I turn to the small, brown-haired girl at Alice's side. "Your name is Mignon? Like the steak?"

She nods, giggling shyly. She's a cute kid and looks to be around the age Gazzy should be now. Mignon grabs Alice's hand and drags her to a medium-sized tent (which I later learn is the laundry tent) next to the first aid tent. Idelle and Zelene stay put, though. I guess they're willing to brave Willow's wrath.

Looking around, I notice that everyone else left is kids. A few look to be in their early teens, but they still have childish faces.

"My name is Gard," a grubby, short, blonde boy says. He's one of the early teens. As I wonder whether his name has a 'u' or not, he says, "and this is my foul tempered, foul mouth twin brother. Eagan."

"I am not fucking foul tempered, Ga(u?)rd," the cleaner, longer haired version of Ga(u?)rd says. I guess he agrees with the foul mouthed bit. Eagan looks at me as he stands. "Listen, nice to meet you, but I'm not going to linger. And neither is my brother because he has weeds to take care of." He yanks his protesting brother up and leads him to the far end of the camp.

"Man," Zelene say, "they are _really _afraid of Willow."

"Can't really blame them," I mumble as I inch away from the Hispanic girl. The space between us has been shrinking, and I really do like my personal space. I consider telling Zelene that I have a girlfriend to get her to back off. Though I'm so sure about that. I've been gone for two years, and Max is beautiful enough to have guys falling over themselves for her. Plus, there's that bastard Dylan. Wouldn't be surprised if he had swept in to 'comfort' her . . .

"Hey, buddy." Fingers snap in my face, and I flinch back in surprise. It's Zelene. Of course. "Geez, you're jumpy. Anyways, this is Juro, Carnell, and Ashlyn," she says, pointing in turn to a small Asian boy, a stocky boy a little older than him, and a dreamy looking girl in her early teens. "Say hello, kids!" They mumble a reply before rushing off.

I can just feel the enthusiasm and love. It's practically drowning me.

"Well, looks like we're the only ones left," Idelle sighs. "Can't slack off any longer." She sighs and grins at me. "That's why most everyone, or at least me and Zelene, came out here. So they could get a few minutes off from duty. Yeah, we're a sweet, caring bunch."

I snort. "I can see that."

We all stand up. Idelle pulls me into a one armed hug, and Zelene trails her hand on my arm and smiles. I do my best not to look too freaked out. I'm sort of at a loss what to do now, so I go back to the first aid tent and sit on the cot.

It's so weird. The camp is like a mini village. There's no way Michiko could've bought everything and keep them fed and clothed without 'persuading' someone to fund her. Yet, even though I distrust her, I have a hard time seeing her make someone fork over money for her, or influencing anyone to do anything against their will. Sort of like Angel. Except I know Angel wouldn't hesitate if she really needed or wanted it.

You know, I don't really think about Angel. Not unless I see someone or something that reminds me of her, but still. Her powers always scared me a little. I had once thought to myself, "If she can make a random lady pay for a stuffed toy that she (the lady) can probably barely afford, what's to stop her from influencing us?" Of course, Angel's a kid, and all kids' moral compasses are a little screwed. But that surpassed a screwed moral compass. That was just _wrong_.

Last I saw her, Angel was trying to take over as leader for the Flock. There's no telling what she's doing now. I haven't seen anything overly suspicious on the news, though, so it looks like she's been behaving.

I sit up. I can hear Willow's voice in the distance.

In a couple of minutes, she ducks into the tent, along with Michiko. They both stop talking at the sight of me.

"Hey, Fang," Willow says, sitting on the tall, wooden stool. Michiko joins me on the cot.

"Where did they all come from?!" I turn to Michiko, and she seems a bit taken aback by my outburst. Good. "You said that there were only five of the original group left. Where- Where did the _kids _come from? And how are you paying for all of this?"

Willow looks at Michiko worriedly, who in turn stares at me. After a full minute of this, Michiko sighs. "Fang, you left the Flock about two years ago, correct?"

"Three," I correct. I would've thought she'd known that. Where is she going with this?

"Yes, three. In that time how many fellow experiments have you met. I'm not just talking about friendly ones. The attackers as well," Michiko says. Willow transfers her gaze to me as well.

I shrug. "At first, I got attacked all the time. Some enemies I recognized, others I didn't. I always managed, though. I didn't meet any possible allies, though. You guys are the first experiments I've met in, well, a year or so. Give or take a few months. I thought it was because Max defeated Dr. Hans again and they started focusing on her. Couldn't afford to waste any fighters on a loner like me."

"So why didn't you rejoin her? Fight at her side," Willow blurts. She looks angry.

"I . . . I don't know. There was something telling me that I needed to continue on my journey. I originally left to protect Max, but that developed into looking for other experiments. I had never found any friendly ones, but something told me not to stop."

Michiko exhales through her mouth. "It's good that you listened to that something. Otherwise, you would've never found us."

"I don't get it," Willow says. "Why are you asking all these questions?" Ditto here.

Standing up, Michiko walks to the end of the tent. She gives us both a serious look; she looks almost scary at how set her expression is. She begins to speak in a flat, matter of fact tone. "Fang, Willow, I believe that this is not the end. I believe that the School is about to strike with more power than they have in the past. And we are in the center of it." Just as I open my mouth, she holds up a hand. "No, hear me out first.

"Fang, you asked where all these children came from. Five of them are from the breakout. Four are born with their abilities naturally. Six of them are children who were picked up from the streets of the cities and towns by scientists, experimented on for a brief time, then released onto the world. I won't tell you who is who. If they decide to entrust you with their secrets, that is their business.

"Now, I think I have deduced the School's plan. They are using the experimented children from the streets to cause chaos. Somehow, they've developed a serum that gives an ordinary human abilities and are using it right now. These children are usually very powerful and _very _unstable.

"No, don't interrupt me yet.

"I assume you are wondering why they don't just make the experiments in the labs instead of grabbing random children. Especially when they have succeeded in creating experiments without souls. The answer is this: compassion. From what I've gathered on your blog, you all are very compassionate. You wouldn't kill someone if you could help them. These children are afraid and confused, and the last thing they want is to hurt people. You wouldn't be able to fight that. And even if you do manage to cut a head off the metaphorical hydra, these children will be running amuck, causing chaos wherever they go. There will be too many for you to tame.

"What the School wants to do is this: they will let the world crumble into chaos. Then, they will emerge from the rubble, disguised as saviors. They will kill every last one of the children they injected and be named heroes for it. The world's ruling order and governments will have been destroyed, strategically of course. They will take over, and the world will become one huge dictatorship.

"Now you may speak."

"Oh my God, that's horrifying!" Willow is clenching her fists so tightly her knuckles are white. "How could they _do _that! Aren't people noticing the missing children?"

I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of that happening to innocent children.

Michiko sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "No. They are careful to snatch only the rejects, the outcasts, the shunned. The ones no one would miss, or even notice the absence of. Whoever created the plan is brilliant."

"How can you call that monster brilliant!" Willow hisses, so upset that she's almost crying.

Michiko gives her an even look. "Many dictators have been described as brilliant. That does not change what kind of people they were."

Pushing down my nausea, I say lowly, "Why aren't you doing anything about this? You know everything they're about to do. And you're just letting it happen!"

"You are just as much to blame!" Michiko's snapping shocks Willow into silence. "They are not doing this only to rule the world. It's a bit more personal. They want to utterly destroy the people that have escaped them and foiled their plans again and again. They are going to come after you, Fang, and your Flock."

The Flock! I sway. I have to protect them. I have to warn them. I have to go _now_!

A firm hand wraps itself around my upper arm. I look down in a daze. I seem to have gotten to my feet and to the entrance of the tent, and Michiko is leading me back to the cot. "Going off is not going to solve anything," she scolds. "You are near defenseless in this state. Besides, I've already warned them. They are preparing themselves. And they won't attack your Flock first. They'll attack us."

"What?" Willow is no longer panicky, but composed. The last statement is enough to crack the calm a bit, though, and the trapped rabbit look appears in her eyes. "No! I won't be captured by them again. I'd rather _die_!"

I ignore her cries. "How do you know that they'll attack us first." Even Willow quiets at that.

"There was another group that escaped from the school several decades ago. They humiliated the School even more than you and your Flock have."

"Decades?" Willow asks. "They must be dead by now. How would you know about them anyway?"

There's a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I internally echo Willow's questions, adding one of my own. What, are they supposed to help us or something?

"I know," Michiko says slowly, "because I was a part of that group. It seems that I have been betrayed.

"They aren't coming here for you, Fang. They're coming for me.

"If I am correct, it will most likely be a bloodbath. And I am always correct."

oOoOoOo

_(For returning reader(s)) I know, this chapter is almost completely different from the original. I have to admit, I like the idea of a little meet-and-greet better than toting Fang all around the camp to everyone. That way, everyone gets a little break from their duties!_

_And the plot emerges! Dun dun dun! Ah, I hate cliffhangers! I hate them so much! But I've always wanted to do that to my readers! Heh, I'm kind of a terrible person._

_IMPORTANT NEWS! I'm sure that you know it is nanowrimo time. Since I am participating this year, don't expect any updates until at least a week after it's all over, because I promise you, I will be totally drained._


	5. Chapter 5

_"They aren't coming here for you, Fang. They're coming for me._

_"If I am correct, it will most likely be a bloodbath. And I am always correct."_

oOoOoOo

The tent is silent. So silent. I don't even think that I'm breathing.

Michiko said that there will be a bloodbath.

I'm not sure whether to laugh hysterically or start crying.

I mean, I've been in plenty of fights before where I had to kill. Always with Erasers, though, who I had never really considered people, and I never killed them directly. They always died out of my sight. But man, a bloodbath? People are going to die. Some of those kids out there could die. _I _could die.

But if I died, how would I get to tell Max I love her in person?

"No."

Michiko and Willow turn to me, the former's face devoid of emotion and the latter's filled with dread.

"No, it will not be a bloodbath," I clarify. "I won't let it come to that. I refuse. Michiko, if you send the others to Max, they can join forces and protect each other. You and I-"

"Stop," Willow barks. "This is my fight, too. Michiko is one of us. I won't leave her behind, and you won't leave me out of this. I refuse. I will stand beside her." There is a new determination in her eyes replacing the previous panic. Willow seems stronger now, more composed. "Michiko, I want to tell everyone else what you've just told me. They're a part of the fight, too, and deserve to know. May I?"

Michiko nods, and Willow exits the tent in a flurry of feathers.

"What about . . . ?" My throat starts to close up. What about Max?

"Your Flock will be fine," Michiko says dismissively. "I've sent a few friends to look after them and help them become stronger."

I release pent-up breath in a huff. She'll be okay. _They'll _be okay. "Who are your friends?"

Michiko smiles faintly. "My fellow escapees. I haven't had contact with them in years, so I'm surprised they listened to me and complied to my request."

We sit there in silence for a while. Michiko looks unconcerned, but thoughts are racing through my mind. How do I know if I can trust Michiko's allies. And how the _hell _has she lived this long? Her expiration date should've kicked in by now. How is Max dealing with all of this? Am I going to die?

No! I shake my head fiercely. I won't give up and let myself die without fully explaining myself to Max. And if I do die, well, I've already died once. What's to stop me from coming back to life again? (Reality tells me a lack of Max and a needle of adrenaline, but I just tell reality to shut up).

"Hey." Michiko taps my arm. "I'm going out to face the masses. Are you going to join me out there?" _Will you stand by me_, is what she's really asking.

"Yeah." I sigh heavily, standing.

We exit the tent to a clamor of voices.

"It was those _fucking _Erasers! I bet-"

"The Erasers are in the same boat we are. I don't think they would do that."

"And _how _long has Michiko been sitting on _this_?"

"Are we going to die?"

The small voice of Mignon cuts through the crowd, and I inhale sharply.

"No, none of you are going to die," Michiko says calmly. All eyes shoot to her, some relieved, some worried, and a few accusing. "I won't allow it."

"Oh, you won't allow it?!" Zelene stalks up to Michiko, towering over her a good six inches. She tosses her hair back in anger and jabs a finger in Michiko's chest. "When you found me, you said you would bring me to a place where I wouldn't be in danger anymore." Tears are forming in her eyes, and Zelene's accent thickens. "You- you _promised_!"

Michiko stares at the offending finger coolly, then her eyes flick back to Zelene's splotchy face. "I said that as long as you were with me, you would be relatively safe, as is anyone else in my care. There will always be dangers with those like us. You _know _that. Do not tell me you don't."

Zelene gulps and looks as if she is about to speak again, but turns around and walks away quickly. Giving Michiko an apologetic look, Idelle stands and follows her.

Taking an authoritative stance in front of the tent, Michiko says, "I'm sure Willow has briefed you on the details. The scientists will be here in about a week. Quiet down! Now, experiments ages fifteen and younger will go to a safer place, where Fang's Flock is currently located. The older experiments will accompany them to keep them safe."

"No _way _you are leaving us behind, Michi!" Q-Tip snaps. Ben and Luke echo his words.

"We're not useless, dammit," Eagan shouts. "We can fight, too!"

Shouting erupts in the clearing. Sighing through her nose, Michiko gives a signal to Willow, who nods and places two fingers in her mouth.

_FWEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!_

Everyone immediately quiets, several wincing.

"There are no questions, no complaints, no expostulations," Willow says firmly. "Michiko has given us an order, and we will follow it. I know some of you don't trust her, but hasn't she always done her best to keep us safe. You all know that if she vows loyalty to someone, she _will _protect them. Even the Erasers, who have some how won her trust, are under her care. Or are you saying that you _don't _respect what she has done?"

There are a few mutters and sullen glares, but no one speaks up. Well, almost no one.

"Why not let us older kids fight?" Ben walks up to the front of the group as he speaks, followed by Luke, Q-Tip, and Nick. "I mean, my power isn't helpful at all in a fight, but I don't wanna be useless!"

"You won't be useless," Michiko says, voice softening. "You'll be protecting the younger ones. I think that's a lot more important that fighting my battle, no matter what."

"But only you an' Fang?" Q-Tip blurts. "I don't mean to say you guys are weak, but Willow said that the camp is bein' attacked. They're gonna bring along some pretty powerful people that're less worried about not killin' their opponents than you guys are."

Michiko snorts. "I am not as weak as you think, and I will be ruthless if it comes to that. Fang and I won't be alone either."

"You _can't _mean the Erasers," Nick says angrily. "They're probably the ones that sold us out in the first place."

Raising an eyebrow, Michiko responds, "Don't be so quick to blame the obvious. I'm sure the true betrayer is someone you haven't met yet. But if it will soothe your troubled mind, I'll go and speak with Argy and his boys."

"I'm coming with you," Nick says, and the other three are quick to back him up.

"No way," Michiko says, "am I letting half of my experienced fighters leaving the camp all at once. Nick and Fang can come, but no one else. Now, back to your usual stations."

No one else protests, though Eagan and Luke look like they want to. The group disperses to the corners of the camp, and Michiko, Nick (who gives me a frosty look) and I set off in a south-westerly direction. The three of us slink along the edges of town until we come to the edge of a forest that looks like it could swallow the camp whole and have room for seconds, thirds, and desert.

Michiko tells Nick and I to stick close. She seems totally comfortable being in the enemies' territory, but Nick and I are twitchy and jump at every little sound. And if that sounds wimpy to you, I'm sorry. I guess that having the crap beat out of you by only one of those things tends to leave a less than positive impression.

After walking for only about a block, Michiko stops abruptly. She whistles the same long, low whistle that I heard the night Silver and I were 'formally introduced'. Instead of Erasers melting into the background, though, they appear around us and without warning.

Looking around with a frown, Michiko says, "Your numbers are low. Where's Tommy and Jules?"

"They're dead." Silver's voice comes from behind us. He walks around until he is facing Michiko. "They're expiration dates kicked in. We buried them yesterday."

Eyes softening, Michiko asks, "Argy, are you sure-"

"Yes." He cuts her off abruptly, crossing his arms and glaring down at her. "And I'm still mad at you." He sounds almost like a three-year old.

Nick exchanges a 'wtf' glance with me, before remembering that we are (apparently) mortal enemies and looks away quickly with as much attitude as Silver displayed earlier.

"Argy," Michiko sighs, "you _know _why I did it. I explained it to you many, many times. Don't be difficult."

"I'm _not _being difficult," he growls. "It's _you _who's being _difficult_!"

Saving us from a (no doubt) lengthy argument, Nick steps in. "Listen, as _fascinating _as it is to watch you guys argue, we actually came for a reason. Because you guys sold Michiko out."

Silver gives Nick an ugly look. "Do you _want _to die, punk?"

Before Nick can respond with another insult, Michiko quickly says, "What he means to say is, I found out that I've been betrayed. I promised my group that I would make sure you weren't the ones who spilled, even though I have a good idea who it is."

"Well, why didn't you tell us?" Nick exclaims. I silently echo his question.

"Because I am praying to any deity up there that it isn't who I think it is."

"Oh! You think this guy could _beat _you," Silver says in dawning amazement. "You think this guy has a good chance of killing you."

"I don't _think_," Michiko snorts. "I _know_. And getting back to the matter of betrayal, just to clear up your good name."

"Boys," Silver shouts. "Would any of you betray Michiko here?" He is met with adamant head shakes and snorts. Turning to Michiko, Silver smiles. "See, we're innocent. Besides, if even one of us started to smell like a traitor, we'd kill that person on the spot. You know that, Michi."

"I know that," Michiko says, in a way that sounds like she is agreeing with a child to humor him. "I just need more concrete evidence."

"It's a sad day when you don't trust my word, Michi," Silver says, sadly shaking his head. He almost reminds me of Q-Tip and his overly dramatic acting. Suddenly, Silver becomes serious. "Besides, we're all dying. What good would it do to betray you now?"

"Why not," Michiko counters. "You'll be dying soon, so you won't have to deal with my fury for long."

They stand there and stare at each other, at an impasse. I shift from foot to foot in half boredom and half paranoia that one of these guys is going to attack me (I just know it!). Nick is stoic and still as a statue, but he stares into Silver's eyes, too.

Finally, Nick sighs, "As much as I hate to admit it, I believe you Silver. And I don't think any of your . . . _men _did it." He spits the word 'men' out as if it tastes bad.

"Yay! Problem solved," Michiko chirps, immediately stepping back and linking her arm through Nick's. "Now that that's over with, I have something important to tell you and your boys."

Silver makes a gesture that says, _So, spill_.

Much less seriously than when Michiko broke the news to us earlier, she says, "Well, the School is attacking in a week, give or take a day. I'm sending everyone but myself and Fang to a place where we should rendezvous later. I don't think the attackers will take any prisoners. I would _very _much appreciate it if you and the boys decide to fight alongside us. Do you accept?"

Throwing back his head, Silver laughs. "Yes, I accept! Now, be on your merry way before I decide to finish the business I started with tweety here before you so rudely interrupted me."

"You heard him, boys. Let's go!" Wrapping her free arm around one of mine, she leads us back to the camp at a brisk pace.

"You know, Michiko," I say, "you never mentioned the 'take no prisoners' bit to me. Why to them, and in front of Nick?"

"Erasers understand the rules of war, Fang. People will die. Why do you think I want everyone away from here? Besides, I can't hide anything from Nick. You can ask him about that if you want. Get in a little male bonding time. Get over that little rift between you two. And that's not a suggestion. Dissension among the ranks will cause disaster. Don't glare at me Nick."

Before we have any time to protest, Michiko releases our arms and power walks back to her house, giving us a cheery wave. Just when I start to be okay with her, she goes and pulls a stunt like this. I have a feeling this is typical Michiko.

"I do want to know why you hate me," I tell Nick.

He stops abruptly and looks at me. He doesn't glare, just looks at me, then begins in a frustrated tone. " . . . Fine. You want to know why?

"When you broke us out, man, you were my _idol_! I mean, when I discovered your blog, you gave me hope that one day I could live a normal life. That all of us could live a normal life! That we could fight back against the School with the support of the world at our backs and come out on top! Michiko kept telling us to wait though, but I just wanted to get out into the world, you know? Do what you guys do.

"But then you just dropped off the face of Earth.

"I mean, at first I thought you guys were just on the lam. But then the message from Nudge came up, and she told us a little about why you left. And I thought that your reason for leaving was such _bull_! The two of you could've stayed together and worked it out. You could've taken breaks. Anything but just _abandoning _them. That's not what the second in command does!

"The second in command is there to make sure the leader doesn't get too big a head, or put too much of the world on her shoulders! He's supposed to be the one person the leader can depend on, no matter what! He's there to _support _the leader and look after her when she's too busy taking care of everyone else! The second in command isn't just supposed to . . . _run _. . . Like a _coward_!

"But when I met you, I hated you, yet didn't hate you. Michiko suggested to tell you what I can do. Well, besides the wings and the over-average strength and endurance, I can look into someone's eyes and see everything. Their flaws, their fears, their insecurities. But I can also see the good inside a person, even if I don't want to, like Silver. He may _act _like a monster, but he really cares about Michiko and his men. Us, we can die for all he cares, but it's because we're not a part of his pack. Pack is family. Pack is _the world_.

"But I'm getting off track. When I looked into your eyes, I didn't see a coward. I just saw a stupid teenager who did what he thought was right. I'm just so angry at myself that I built my so much hopes on someone who's only human. Every time I look at you, I'm just reminded of how _stupid _I was!

"It just . . . I don't _know _. . . " Nick trails off, arms crossed and shaking. He's a little teary, too, but I pretend I don't see that.

But geez! To have somebody believe in me that much. I'm not sure whether to be flattered or a little freaked out.

I shrug. "I'm a man of few words, but I'll tell you this: _never _pin your hopes on a person you've put up on a pedestal. It'll only hurt when the image shatters. Put hope in yourself, and the people you love and trust. No one else."

Nick exhales heavily. "Thanks man. And just so you know, I trust you. And because I trust you, I'll tell you this: don't put all your trust into Michiko. I mean, she's nice and all, but that can change really quickly. I can't see everything about her, since she's got that wacky mind thingy going on, but what I have seen makes me cautious.

"Fang, she's seen some stuff that still haunts me to this day. She has been more cruel and ruthless than you could ever imagine, and to be honest, it frightens me. She and I both know that part of her is still there, but hidden very deeply. Just, when we leave, be careful."

"I will," I say quietly. A pause. "Willow trusts her, though."

Nick sighs and looks away. "And I trust Willow, but it's a trust built on years of knowing each other. I'm not saying that Willow has bad taste in who she chooses to trust. I know that Michiko will protect her to the best of her abilities. She'll do that for anyone that's gained her loyalty. But what if an innocent stranger is being attacked by a wild experiment? Willow would go out of her way to save that person.

"I think- No, I know Michiko would let the person die."

oOoOoOo

_So, yeah, you know how I was going to do nanowrimo this year? (And I was super pumped about it) Well, my teacher's were all like "lol lol, nope! You've got a research project to do! And this major art project!" And I should be working on my art project, but I have a cold, and it's hard to draw when I keep coughing. Bleagh._

_Am currently working on sixth chapter. Will hopefully have it up by next week._

_For Americans, Happy Thanksgiving! And for those in the UK, Happy Fuck Off Puritan Day (even though this is totally a day late)._

_Also, for those who are into the Hetalia fandom, I have written two oneshots for them, one very bad. I encourage you to read them! Please!_


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